Grumpy Old Mutants
by Kayka
Summary: Victor Creed finds a pint-sized killing machine. Dumping the girl off on the X-Men is easier said than done. Victor/Logan/Laura family fic. A story told in snippets. Initial arc COMPLETE. Slice-of-life shorts, ahoy!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This diverges from films after X1, but does accept the film X-Men Origins: Wolverine as canon. 'Logan' has no real bearing on this fic, other than it inspired me to start actively working on this story again.

* * *

 **More Stories from this Universe:**

The Kitty and the Bomb

Newsflash (Chapter 1 of "Bite Sized")

* * *

 **One**

* * *

On occasion, Victor Creed found himself on the right side of the law, working government-sanctioned missions for the "greater good", or some shit like that.

 _This_ was not such an occasion.

Breaking into a government lab was old hat, and hell, he'd broken _out_ of his fair share. But an errant scent, _that scent,_ shouldn't have been present _here_ and _now_.

Unless the runt had been captured within the last week, Victor knew damn well and good that his little shit of a brother was living it up in a mansion full of whiny teenagers. So, finding traces of him here, without the lab being already torn to shreds was wrong enough to throw Sabretooth off balance.

Victor broke away from the rest of the crew.

This wasn't a rescue mission so much as an effort to sabotage Uncle Sam's current iteration of mutant experiments, and the hard part was already done. They had no protocols on how to deal with the _experiments_ themselves. It had been the general consensus that any not caught in the crossfire would be left to their own devices. Hell, his team might even unlock the doors and shoo'em out. Erik or the Cue Ball would likely scoop them up eventually, and he'd go on to the next job.

But that plan had just been shot straight to hell.

The area was too bloody to get a good handle on what his nose was telling him, and it looked like they had missed an offshoot of the compound. He followed a fresh trail of blood down a once sterile corridor to a reinforced door his team hadn't breached yet.

The door may have been made of reinforced alloy, but the glass of the window shattered easily enough. _Fucking amateurs._

The trail of blood led to a frail slumped against a stark white desk. He didn't bother with her, if the glassy eyes and pool of blood weren't proof enough she was dead, the lack of heartbeat might just be an indicator.

Jimmy's scent saturated the new area in the way that only living somewhere long term would accomplish.

But that wasn't quite _right_. It _wasn't_ James' scent, now was it?

He found the girl in a stark, bright room with a small gray cot on one side. Why they started making these places that damned sterile white, he'd never understand.

Not tall enough to see out, she'd been listening at the door until he'd peered in. She sprang away, and leveled Victor with a glare that shouldn't belong to a five year old. That look had taken his brother decades to master.

But then, the runt had spent his early years in comfort rather than growing up in whatever the hell this passed for.

Getting a keener look at her, the kid was scrawny but not quite underfed, making her look younger than what she probably was. She wasn't James' kid- she smelled too much like him for that. No, this one was lab grown, a clone or as close as they could manage.

Curiosity satisfied, Victor turned to walk away-

Until he heard the _snickt_ of, four perfectly formed, adamantium coated claws sliding free from her two tiny fists.

 _Great, they'd built a baby killer out of Jimmy's DNA._

Victor should have left then; it was the smart thing to do. He didn't have time for this kind of bullshit, and he sure as hell wasn't a babysitter.

He wouldn't have left his brother in that cell.

"I'm a fucking moron," Victor announced. He wrenched the door off its hinges- the hunk of carbonadium landed with a satisfying crash.

The girl maintained her stance rather than rushing him. There might be hope for her, yet.

"Let's go."

At some point in the past forty seconds, Victor's game-plan changed from wreaking havoc unchecked, to ditching the mission with this little abomination in tow.

She stared at him, taking a tentative sniff, but she didn't budge.

He'd guessed with the claws, but that simple motion confirmed that her mutation was fully active. Unlike Jimmy at her age, being sickly all the time, this kid was probably a mini-warhead.

"Listen, kid. We ain't got time for posturing. You're family, so, you and me are gettin' the fuck outta Dodge. I'm taking you somewhere safe. Now, _let's go_."

The girl surprised him by retracting her little claws and closing the space between them. She solemnly reached up to take his hand.

Something stuttered in the vicinity of Sabretooth's withered, old heart.

"I will kill you, if you're lying," she declared.

Victor laughed.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** This story was planned out ages ago, but I'm tweaking my original plans a bit to play off of characterizations I enjoyed from Logan. I only have time to work on this during my lunch breaks/weekends at the moment, but I'm trying to update as quickly as possible while the inspiration is flowing.

* * *

 **Two**

* * *

Even now, forty odd years estranged, Jimmy still managed to fuck up his life without even trying.

Case in point: Victor presently found himself trailing a berserk baby feral through the woods shortly after escaping the hellhole of a lab aforementioned berserk baby feral called home.

"Knew she would be nothing but trouble," He grumbled to himself.

He'd suspected it from the moment he found her and known for sure from the moment the girl had spotted the dead frail.

Helpless rage had rolled off her, and the kid jerked her hand away from his, running toward the dead woman. Victor examined the woman again, this time with something approaching interest.

She stank of blood and gore, the finer nuances of her scent lost in the wake of her death, but underneath that there was a trace of _something_ that linked her to the kid.

 _Oh, fan-fucking-tastic_. They'd killed her ma. Or caretaker. Whichever it was, there was nothing for it now.

He came up behind the girl while she was still taking it in.

"She's gone." Victor pointed out unnecessarily. He could smell the girl's tears even though she didn't make a sound.

"Ain't nothing you can do to change it. Whoever that was, if she was good to you, she wouldn't want you to stay here now."

He turned away.

A moment later, the girl followed.

By the time they were out the door, the kid had composed herself. It seemed eerie to him, but now wasn't the time to look at it further.

They were nearly clear of the compound, when the Jeeps pulled through the gate. Soldiers poured out with one self-important-looking douchebag stepping out in front.

Victor lengthened his claws.

"Twenty-three, return to your unit," Captain Douchebag ordered.

Victor turned toward the girl and back to the man in an exaggerated fashion.

"She ain't going the fuck anywhere. Get out of our way, and I might let you live. " Sabretooth wouldn't, and it wasn't like the man would actually do so, anyway. Still, it was fun to needle his prey before the kill.

Victor waited for the man to make the first move when an odd scent filled the air.

The girl tensed.

"Twenty-three, silence that man."

Low growls issued from the kid's throat, and her claws slipped free. She took two steps in Captain Douchebag's direction.

"No..., No!" The man used the same chiding tone one would use on a dog. _Idiot_. "You fools! Cut the gas! Now's not-"

The girl shot forward, mowing down every damn person in her path- rending and stabbing, with a particularly vicious kick to the head of Captain Douchebag. When she pulled back he saw an adamantium-coated claw jutting out from the kid's foot.

"Well, _fuck_ _me_." Victor muttered, momentarily stunned.

'Mini-warhead' was about right. Victor just hadn't expected the girl to actually have the training to go along with it.

He reacted just in time to eviscerate a man aiming to bring the kid down from behind. Sabretooth joined in the fray and within minutes, it was all over. He and the kid were the only ones left standing.

With nothing left to kill, he'd half expected the girl to turn on him. But rather, she vaulted over the chain-link fence, shooting off into the tree line beyond the edge of the property, thus leading to his current predicament.

"I'm getting too old for this shit," Victor complained, as he picked his way through the underbrush. He wasn't particularly concerned about her hearing him, and with the carnage they left behind, he doubted that he really needed to worry about anyone else tracking them down any time soon.

It was the scent- and Sabretooth had no doubt that it _was_ the scent- that triggered her outburst.

He'd seen that uncontrollable rage before, and, until today, had attributed it to Jimmy's unwillingness to accept his feral side. In the midst of battle, sometimes the runt would snap and completely lose all sense of anything but the killing, and fuck all if you got in his way.

Somehow, they had manufactured a way to trigger it on command. He just doubted they had intended it backfire quite so spectacularly.

The only question was as to how long the effects lasted. Victor didn't want to put the brat down. He would, if need be, but the thought rankled.

He'd told her she'd be safe, dammit, and that was reason number one he didn't make promises.

Victor lost the girl's trail.

If he had half a brain in his head, he'd take the opportunity to ditch the kid. He could walk away now- no harm, no foul.

Involuntarily, Victor was drawn into the memory of a night nearly two hundred years past- a different forest, a different child, but there had never been a question in following James.

And the one time Victor hadn't followed...

It was some time later he found the girl passed out under a bush, stinking of dead deer.

"God damn, kid. First, you run the hell off." Victor nudged her, but she was dead to the world.

"Then, you roll in deer guts- pretty sure you ought'a try _not_ killin' it if you're trying to hide your scent."

His ride would doubtlessly be gone by this point and there was little Sabretooth hated more than being stranded. Going back to the lab at all would have been stupid beyond measure though, even if Jimmy's hellspawn hadn't led him on a five-mile wild goose chase into the woods.

"Then, you pass the fuck out, so, I have to carry ya. No question whose kid _you_ are."

He hefted her up and started heading toward the distant sounds of traffic.

"And, to top it all off, I don't even know your fucking name!"


	3. Chapter 3

**Three**

* * *

He vacillated on reaching for his phone. Victor Creed didn't _do_ indecisive, but the truth of the matter was he didn't know what to do with the kid now that he had her out of the lab.

Victor briefly considered going back to Canada- after his early morning run through the forest, he'd found them a truck and drove vaguely north- but there was no way in _hell_ he was taking on a cub full time.

The trouble was that there wasn't anyone he would trust to raise a mutant kid- especially one already trained for black ops.

Victor was still on fair enough terms with old bucket head, but the old man still had his agendas. And if Jimmy ever found out, well, that was a catastrophe waiting to happen.

Not that Xavier was much better; his agendas were just more marketable, if the comic book bullshit was anything to go by. The only uptick was that Jimmy would be around to deal with his own kid.

Victor was prevented from further musings when the girl woke, reeking of terror.

She feigned sleep, keeping her breathing even and projecting an outward calm that might have fooled a regular human.

The suddenly rapid tattoo of her heart told him otherwise.

Normally, he thrived on fear, but today, the scent just served to piss him off. He attributed it to the fear's combination with rotting deer carcass and was abstractly glad this wasn't his truck to clean.

Victor drove for a couple of miles, and the girl's scent, such as it was, settled.

"You're safe. Or near enough," Sabretooth broke the silence.

He felt the girl's eyes on him; apparently, she'd given up the pretense of sleep.

"There's food," Victor nodded to the bag in between them, keeping his eyes on the road. "Eat it."

She sniffed delicately, but did not move to do as bid.

"It was better when it was warm, but a few cold fries won't kill ya."

The kid would come around or she wouldn't. Once he figured out what to do with her, it wouldn't be his problem, he resolved.

But for now... well, Sabretooth had never been known for his patience.

Right when he thought he would snap, the girl reached into the bag.

She pulled out a burger. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her turn it over and again, in confusion.

 _For fuck's sake_ , she'd never seen takeout before, and with his luck, the brat would try to eat it, wrapper and all.

He reached over to unwrap it, halfway accomplishing his goal, when he felt a sharp pain in the side of his hand.

"You little shit!" Victor shouted, dropping the burger.

He narrowly avoided swerving into oncoming traffic and reigned in his first impulse to rend the offender.

She had bitten him, hard enough to draw blood. His wound was already healing, as the girl shoved the newly unearthed food in her mouth- swallowing it nearly whole.

He should have known better than to get in between a half-starved cub and her food.

"God damn, kid, I wasn't taking it. Drink something before you choke yourself."

Luckily, cups with straws didn't elude the little feral and she eagerly downed the liquid.

Victor snagged the bag up, making quick work of the rest of the wrappers.

"You and me need to go over some ground rules. You can't just go around attacking people for no fucking reason," he shook his head at the incongruity of _Victor fucking Creed_ being the one to say that.

"Now, you gonna bite me again?" He dangled the bag, enticingly.

After careful consideration the child slowly nodded, "I might."

Victor huffed, dropping the bag in her lap.

"'Least you're honest."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Sorry, for the delay in getting this out! I've been working on later chapters and have been neglecting editing this to be post-able (and I ended up splitting it into two parts, at that). There are roughly 4-5 more chapters in this introductory arc, and from there on, the chapters will likely become less linear, and more 'a day in the life'. The encounter everyone is waiting for should start chapter after next. c:

* * *

 **Four**

* * *

Why were kid's clothes so fucking bright?

Victor glared at the offerings- the small department store had smashed neon monster truck pants next to fluorescent unicorn shirts for an overall headache inducing display. And if he heard one more comment about how _cute_ his _cluelessness_ was from the saleslady to her coworker, he may well just goddamn lose it and go on a killing spree.

It would have been easier to have the kid here with him and tell her to just pick something, but it was best to keep a low profile in case they had anyone on their tail. What she was wearing now screamed "hospital escapee". Plus, the smell probably wouldn't help matters.

And he wasn't exactly eager to repeat the incident at the gas station, which had been about as _un_ -low profile as it was possible to be. The girl had been cautiously curious when they'd stopped, and in hindsight he'd approached the whole thing completely ass-backwards like a damned rookie. Victor wrongly assumed that she could pass for normal long enough for them to get their shit and get out. He'd turned his back on her for a damn minute she had nearly gutted the clerk when the dumbass tried to make her pay for the pop she was drinking.

Victor had flung money toward the counter and jerked the girl along behind him.

"What the hell did I just tell you? There are rules you gotta follow."

He got her in the truck and got them out of there before the kid at the counter could gather his wits enough to call the cops.

"Sometimes, at least," he amended. He only followed society's rules when it suited his purposes, and the kid had to learn to at least play the game. "No biting, punching, or stabbing 'til I say so. We need to blend in. And what's your damned name, anyway? I can't keep calling you-"

"Can I help you, sir?"

Victor was snapped back to his present predicament.

Letting the loud-as-fuck salesgirl tromp up on him without noticing? He really _must_ be losing it.

Sabretooth gritted his teeth and grabbed a small assortment of the least visually repugnant garments he could find, flashing his most charming smile and spinning a story about lost luggage and a distraught daughter.

 _This_ little outing highlighted why he was the wrong goddamned person to be carting around a kid. One misstep and all hell would break lose from one or _both_ of them, and he was _not_ in the _mood_. By the time he'd suffered through the checkout and made it back to his commandeered truck, Victor resolved to mark one more thing off his to do list before he got back to the hotel where he'd stashed her.

He checked the news on his phone- nothing about the lab yet. It was either as yet undiscovered or being covered up. That it was going on twelve hours since he'd found the kid, Victor's money was on the latter.

He flipped over to his contacts and hit send; the call was answered on the third ring.

"Hello, Victor."

"You still taking in strays, old man?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Five**

* * *

"Are there others?" Charles Xavier asked.

Victor felt the slight pressure that informed him he was no longer alone in his own mind.

Fuck if he cared if the Xavier snooped, it wasn't like he had anything to hide, and telepaths were fun to fuck with any day- just feeling the revulsion of the old man when Victor contemplated a new 'cat-and-mouse' game was enough to bring a smile to Victor's lips. No, it was the presumption that grated more than the actual snooping.

If he'd decided to call the X-Men to begin with he could have just left the girl in the lab and wouldn't even be in this mess. _Stupid instincts_.

"At least ten kids. Maybe others. This one though... She- Laura is-" Victor let his thoughts tell what his words couldn't describe.

"Are you certain of this?"

"Pretty damned sure." Victor bristled.

"Logan is already out on an errand. I will send him your way."

The line went silent for a moment, as the old man pushed an image into his brain.

"He'll be _there_ , tomorrow."

 _'There'_ was at least two-hundred miles due east.

"You can't come get the brat in your fucking jet?" Sure, he'd been half planning on driving and dumping the kid off on them without preamble, but now that he had called the old man, it made sense that Xavier would send a team for her.

That the telepath left her in his care for any extended period of time meant he was scheming.

Victor Creed had avoided his brother since a stint on top of Lady Liberty. And the encounter some time _before_ that had been the reason Sabretooth had been angling for revenge. Not that he'd quite remembered it at the time, but hey, that's what adamantium to the frontal lobe would do for you when you're fucking allergic to the shit in the first place. Two half-immortal amnesiac brothers trying to kill each other was a riot any day, but _his_ mind had healed. James' though...

"Victor, see this for the opportunity that it is. This conversation between you is long overdue."

He ended the call and didn't bother thanking the telepath.

 _Fuck off, Wheels_.

The presence lingered for a moment longer before fading.

All told, he still wasn't sure he'd made the right call with bringing the X-Men into it. Victor doubted they could handle the kid, but with the alternatives being Erik's Brotherhood or Victor himself... With Xavier's lot, she'd at least have Jimmy, not that Jimmy knew jack shit when it came to raising a feral.

Not that he was much better, but Victor knew for certain that what Laura needed _wasn't him._

* * *

Sabretooth returned to the hotel where he stashed the kid. He'd told her to stay put, clean up, and sleep, when he left, and the lack of a kid shaped lump in the bed coupled with the splashing noises in the bathroom indicated she was still doing the 'clean up' part of the agenda. He didn't know what he would have done if she'd been missing when he came back. Probably something stupid like freaking the fuck out and tracking her down.

Though his foray into the fifth circle of hell that was the department store seemed like an endless torment, Victor had barely been gone half an hour by the clock. So, he didn't begin to question the fact the girl was still in the bath until he realized she was still in there twenty minutes later.

He listened more closely, turning the tv down. He could hear her, but the sound was oddly muffled, and there were far more 'swishes' and 'splashes' than absolutely necessary.

"Everything good in there?" Victor shouted through the closed door.

After a few moments of silence, he heard a very small, "help."

Victor opened the door and was greeted by a wall of bubbles overflowing from the tub. A tiny, round face peaked through the bubbly gloom, visibly relieved. He heard the slither or claws retracting.

He found the empty bubble bottle on the floor, declaring a concentrated, longer lasting formula.

"Really? The _whole goddamned bottle_ , Laura?"

"It smelled good," She declared, matter-of-factly.

Victor rescued the brat, shoving a towel in her general direction and pointing her toward the bag of clothes.

The bathroom would stink of unicorn vomit for the rest of the night. So much for springing for a room with a 'deluxe, king-sized tub.'

* * *

 **A/N:** I know several of you wanted it to be Erik, but it's not this time. Sorry. Maybe it will be the next time Victor needs help from an 'old man.' ;)


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Uggh. Sorry, for the delay! I had a terribly inconvenient cold that completely annihilated all my 'productive' ambitions. This one is a little longer, though, so hopefully that helps. c:

* * *

 **Six**

* * *

Victor set out the next morning destination in mind.

Or he _would have,_ if the damned kid would cooperate.

Being Jimmy's hellspawn, _that_ wasn't likely.

"Get in the truck."

The girl glared at him, with a stubborn tilt to her jaw.

Time must have taught him patience because if James had been half as obstinate at her age, he might have killed him, himself.

"Truck. You. Now."

The little shit had the audacity to bare her teeth and growl at him.

He didn't get it. She'd followed him to begin with because he was taking her somewhere safe, and _now_ she didn't want to go. She wasn't really serious about defying him because her claws were still sheathed.

Anything he could think of to threaten her with to get her moving wouldn't motivate her at best and would be counterproductive at worst. And after the sleepless night he'd had...

That left him only one alternative.

"You, truck, and I get you the most sickeningly sugary breakfast I can find."

Bribery.

"Pancakes. Cinnamon rolls. French toast. Meat." Victor continued his one sided negotiation. She probably didn't know what the first three were, but the kid seemed to be considering it. He'd found that she inhaled any sugar she could get her hands on, and meat was always a sure bet with a feral.

He got in the truck and waited, tapping his claws impatiently on the gearshift. If she still refused, well, he'd cross that bridge when he came to it.

He cranked it, and after a moment's further contemplation the girl climbed in.

A ways down the road, Sabretooth paid up. He briefly felt like one of those grandparents that pumped the kids full of sugar before sending them home.

The thought vaguely amused him up until the point that Laura started rolling the windows up and down. Incessantly.

Lucky for him, the truck had been built some time this century.

He turned the child locks on and continued driving.

Laura pressed the button several more times and let out a little growl.

 _Snikt._

"You stab it, all it's gonna do is put a hole in the truck. Ain't my truck, so, I don't care regardless, but stabbing it won't make it work."

He heard the slower hiss of retracting claws.

The kid was... pouting. There wasn't any other way to put it. And it wasn't because he'd told her to not stab the truck.

He didn't know what had crawled up her ass, but she'd been moody all morning, even more so since he told her where they were going.

She'd been quiet the day before, but Victor suspected it had been because she had nothing to say. Today, when he scented the air, he could tell that she was definitely giving him the silent treatment because she was _mad_ _at him_ , 2000 calorie breakfast not withstanding.

It wasn't like he _cared_ , but the not knowing _why_ rankled, and so, here he was trying to pinpoint where he'd fucked up.

She'd cried in her sleep last night, and it had been one of the most awkwardly uncomfortable moments of his life. Victor didn't _do_ awkward or uncomfortable unless he was making _someone else_ feel that way for shits and giggles.

He'd been content to let it lie, until she started screaming.

Victor woke her, knowing well enough to stay clear of her claws, but still narrowly missed being eviscerated when the girl came up swinging.

She'd cried for her ma after that, and he'd held her until she calmed down, even though all he'd wanted was to run. His instincts were screaming at him to take care of the damned brat, and he gave in and let her sleep in his space, while he himself kept vigil the rest of the night.

When she woke up next she'd been agreeable up until he'd told her he'd be leaving her with James once they found him. He knew that was the point where it went downhill, though, even upon examination, he didn't know what to make of it.

The kid started playing with the radio, and he focused on this newest iteration of annoyance.

 _Not like I really care why, anyway,_ he convinced himself.

* * *

Victor pulled off his sunglasses and glared at the skyscraper.

According to the meddlesome old cue ball, his brother should have checked in by now. So, he could dump the kid and hole up somewhere he could get a goddamned nap.

Based on the room number Xavier gave him, it looked like Jimmy-boy was on the top floor. The runt must have either conquered his fear of heights, or this place, as large as it was, was full up.

Once inside, Laura followed him into the elevator- at least _that_ wasn't a fight. Victor pressed the button for the top floor, and she came in after him angling for the rest.

"No," he said, grabbing her hand before she could hit more than two. She glared at him for interrupting her fun, looking more likely than not to stab him.

"Wait 'til we get to the top," Victor relented, dropping the appendage.

The elevator dinged, signaling their floor before the doors opened.

The girl glanced up at him in askance, and he nodded once.

The look of mischievous glee as she pressed every available button before scurrying off after him, temporarily cracked through his swelling bad mood.

It was back in full force by the time Victor found the right room and banged just light enough to avoid having to pay up for property damage.

James opened the door cigar in hand and pissed-off comment on his lips.

Before the younger feral could fully react and get annoyingly stabby, Victor shoved the girl into his arms.

" _This_ is _yours_."


	7. Chapter 7

**Seven**

* * *

For a moment, no one moved.

Victor's plan had been to foist the kid off on his brother and immediately hightail it out of there.

So, why was he still standing there like an idiot?

James blinked owlishly, and was the first to break the silence.

"What the hell?"

"I didn't fucking stutter," Victor retorted.

The girl looked up at James through her sunglasses. James' brow furrowed as he looked down at the kid.

"I take it you're my pick-up?"

The girl glanced back to Victor but didn't answer Jimmy's question. His idiot brother didn't _get it_. He'd think the younger feral would know how to use his nose to identify his own family, but that was probably asking a lot, and the smoke didn't help matters.

"No shit, dumbass. Put out that damned cigar and look a little closer."

His brother cocked a brow at him as if suddenly remembering his presence. There wasn't the sort of recognition in that stare that there ought to have been. To Logan, Victor was still buckethead's lackey that had tracked him and the leech to Canada. Nothing more.

It had taken time but Victor's mind had healed, and he _remembered_.

His brother's still _hadn't_. If he had to bet money, it had something to do with that poison metal on his bones.

This was going more sideways by the second, but the runt hadn't aimed to stab him yet, which had become the younger feral's default mode in their past few encounters. _Time to go_ , before they both had the opportunity to think about it and ended up beating the shit out of each other.

"Jimmy, your kid. Laura, your pa," Victor gestured indistinctly between them. "Figure it the fuck out. I'm gone."

Victor turned, heading back toward the elevators, angling for the one that the kid _hadn't_ worked her button-pushing magic on.

He'd accomplished what he'd set out to do and the inexplicable feelings of rage and loss would pass.

Thirty seconds later, both the kid and his brother were coming up behind him. Victor growled, making a beeline for the stairwell. The damned elevator was taking too long, and he needed to get the hell out of there.

* * *

Logan's brain short-circuited. He gaped, unseeing, at the retreating form of Sabretooth.

 _Jimmy_.

Chuck had helped Logan discover his full name years back. The name he'd hoped would uncover his past and his memories was little more than another dead end. James Logan Howlett was a soldier, and had been since at least World War I, possibly earlier. He'd known he wasn't aging like most folks, but he hadn't been quite prepared to have it _confirmed._ The majority of the records were redacted or classified and akin to reading the world's most boing history book rather than reading an account of his own life. He knew intellectually that _he_ _was_ James, and he'd _lived_ that life, but that didn't change the fact that he still couldn't _remember_.

Logan had stopped searching shortly after that, not bothering to look further for family that was likely long dead and buried. Whoever "James" had been, he was effectively dead as well, and Logan, despite his stubbornness, knew when to leave well enough alone. He had a name, and a semblance of closure. It was _enough_.

But _Sabretooth_... Sabretooth had called him Jimmy like he _knew_ him. A hazy memory from the early days of his current existence drifted up- The first time he had met Sabretooth, the big feral had used _that_ name right before he'd tried to gut him. Logan thought he had killed him with a claw to the head until the other man had shown up in Canada and kidnapped Rogue.

He'd never given the other feral's existence due consideration.

The almost painful urge to chase the living, breathing link to his past caught Logan wholly off guard.

But that need was nearly blown away by the second, more pressing, revelation.

A kid.

Supposedly _his_ kid.

Chuck had been cagey about this pick up- a little girl found in a lab. No mention of where. No mention of who'd be dropping her off, which was weird as hell to begin with. He just knew that she had a feral mutation, and Logan was the best candidate to do it since Hank was in DC. The whole situation put him on edge from the start.

And now _that fucker_ was walking away with answers to both.

 _Not a chance in hell._


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** I have no excuse for the delay. I just really tend to procrastinate when it comes to writing anything vaguely resembling a 'fight scene' because I am a slug. The next chapter should follow fairly soon as I ended up splitting this in half for flow.

There is also a bit of gore in this one and the next, just, you know, FYI, if you're squeamish.

* * *

 **Eight**

* * *

Victor pulled the stairway door open only for his idiot brother to shove it back closed.

Too late for the quick escape, so, it looked like they'd be falling back into old habits of beating the shit out of each other.

"You got something to say runt?" Victor turned, letting his claws lengthen.

"Just who the hell _are_ you, bub? Where did-"

The elevator dinged, and Sabretooth's hackles rose. In and of itself, the sound was innocuous enough, and exactly what Victor had been willing to happen just moments prior.

No one exited, but that wasn't odd. _He'd_ been the one to call it.

The scent of ozone wafted to him an instant before he felt the bite of a bullet rip through his chest.

 _God fucking dammit._

They'd been tracked after all.

The blur- _teleporter_ , his mind supplied- angled to grab the kid, next.

 _Like hell-_

Laura beat him to it, though, stabbing at her assailant.

She missed anything vital, and the injury wasn't quite enough to stop the man's disappear-reappear act.

If the asshole got away, it'd be bad for all of them. He watched as the man made another grab for the kid, and the kid parried back, baring her little sharp teeth.

The thing about teleporters, though- they couldn't be truly random. Every move was signaled, if one knew how to see the pattern. They also had to relocate into clear space; if their path was interrupted...

Victor moved at just precisely the right moment _interrupting_ the man's spinal column, and it was lights out for the would-be kidnapper.

Unfortunately, the girl didn't get the memo in time.

Laura saw her opportunity and decapitated the teleporter, making the whole thing a hell of a lot messier than it ought to have been.

Incidentally, that mess occurred all over Victor.

She realized her error and drew up short before colliding with the larger feral man.

" _Aim._ Aim _away_ from your partner, kid, for _fuck's sake_ ," Victor complained, swiping blood from his eyes.

Gore aside, their current assailant was dead, and there were likely more waiting in the wings.

Whoever wanted the kid had to know it was a suicide mission to send in only one operative, which meant this was either a trap or a message. The sooner Jimmy got Laura back to that damned school-

"Shit, Jimmy!"

Victor found his brother slumped against the door, and it took him moment to realize why.

Victor fumbled with his coat pocket, fishing out his phone.

"Get your damned team and your damned plane here _now_. Jimmy's injured and _he's not healing_."


	9. Chapter 9

**Nine**

* * *

The Wolverine had caught two bullets to the chest from the teleporter's initial attack, which _shouldn't_ have been a problem. Either his metal bones should have blocked them, or his healing factor should be pushing the bullets out.

Obviously, that wasn't happening.

Victor could tell James' body was _trying_ , but the healing moved sluggishly. The man was nowhere near healed enough to move, much less fight if it came down to it.

He needed to get the bullets out before the flesh closed over them, but they all also needed to go before anyone happened upon them. The merry band of idiots in their unitards wouldn't be any help; the X-Men were still a couple of hours out from their current location.

Victor hesitated. Normally, he wouldn't have given a thought to having at it and digging the bullets out. But then, normally, he wouldn't have _needed_ to. His interference in this case would probably do more harm than good.

"Fuck."

The kid hovered to his left.

Her hands were smaller, and less likely to nick an artery.

"You good kid?"

She adjusted her backpack and nodded. They were all three covered in blood, and probably the stuff of normal folks' nightmares.

"Your pa heals like you and me, but these bullets are giving him problems," Victor heard himself say, "Think you can reach in there and get them out?"

Laura squinted at the wounds and nodded again.

"Try that one first," he pointed to the younger man's right. Better to practice on the lung side first rather than going straight to fucking up the runt's heart.

She found the bullet and began to pull.

"Stuck," the girl complained.

"Easy," Victor wrapped his hand around her wrist steadily guided her hand back out, "Don't let go of it."

Bullet number one fell to the ground seconds later.

He grimly examined the other wound. The healing on this side was coming along faster, but the damned thing was still _inside._

"This one's worse. Gotta be careful with it."

Here was hoping he didn't fuck it up worse. Victor reached in, lengthening a claw to neatly slice the healed over muscle.

Laura followed his lead once he removed his own hand, deftly finding her quarry. She pulled the bullet out faster this time without needing him to guide her.

Sabretooth felt the stirrings of pride, until the sirens sounded in the distance.

There was nothing to say the cops were coming _here,_ but there was no guarantee they weren't. And knowing his luck-

Part of him, the larger, instinctual part, insisted that they get the hell out of there. That didn't change the fact that the runt was still in no condition to travel far.

It was then that Victor noticed the door to Jimmy's room still hung ajar.

It was a terrible idea, and his instincts railed against it. There were no cameras on the floor proper, though. And even stretching his senses, he didn't hear or smell any frails cowering behind their own doors on the phone with nine-one-one.

They hadn't been seen.

 _Yet._

Victor reached down and hoisted his unconscious brother over his shoulder.

"Come on, brat. We're babysitting."


	10. Chapter 10

**Ten**

* * *

Logan had been hit by a truck… and then a little bit stabbed. At least, it felt that way.

As far as he could remember, it'd been a while since the last truck incident.

Where ever he was stank strongly of blood and faintly of cigars. He felt a gaze on his skin, even through the haze of pain emanating from his slowly healing body.

He cracked an eye open, to find a pair of green ones staring back at him, far too close to his own.

"What the hell?"

The eyes drew back slightly, resolving into a small face focused resolutely on his own.

"I'm watching you," the girl declared.

"Can't you watch me from over there, kid?" He tied to raise an arm to point, but the damned thing wouldn't cooperate. He gave up only to ill advisedly nod his head toward the chair in the corner of the room. And it was a good thing he was already flat because the vertigo from that little move would've had him on his ass, otherwise.

She shook her head. "Victor told me to stay here."

 _Who the hell is Victor?_

Logan decided he didn't really care who Victor was, at the moment. Breathing was hard enough to take the bulk of his focus, with his chest alternating between itching and scalding.

No, not stabbed. _Shot_.

…The jury was still out on the truck.

He remembered the girl- somehow _his_ kid? that part was fuzzy and could've been a hallucination. He remembered going after Sabretooth, but after that...

"Ain't dead after all, runt?"

Logan struggled to sit up, at the grating, taunting voice. He didn't like being on his back in front of the other feral, even though Sabretooth obviously had to be the one to move him. It slowly dawned on him that Sabretooth was probably Victor.

"Lay back down, dumbass. Your geeks'll be here in five. Kid, make sure he doesn't do anything stupid before they get here."

Sabretooth headed toward the door. Escaping again.

The girl stared after the retreating feral, looking torn between bolting and resuming her post of watching him as directed.

"Wait," Logan croaked. "You never answered me. Who-"

The other man cut him off without even turning around. "If you don't remember, it ain't worth telling."

"What kind'a shit answer is that?"

Sabretooth's shoulders tensed and he paused before continuing forward, but he didn't answer.

"Get the hell back here, " Logan wheezed from the bed. "We're not done."

The other man finally turned.

"Funny. The last thing you- The _old_ you - told me was that we _were,_ in fact, _done_."

"Yeah, well, I didn't count on getting amnesia and having to depend on your sorry ass to remind me who I was."

"Fine. We're brothers. Half brothers. We grew up together, and we fought together for a damned long time. But we..." Sabretooth glanced to the girl. _Damn_ , Logan had already forgotten she was there, which went to show how far out of it he really was. "We fell out toward the end. That's it. Mystery solved. Now, I'm gone."

"You can't just lay this shit on me and then fuck off." Logan complained.

"Watch me."


	11. Chapter 11

**Eleven**

* * *

Victor almost made it out the door to freedom before being stopped _again_. The key word being _almost_.

"He's in here!"

He heard the team out in the hall, and he swung the door open just as Blue's hand was poised to knock... or bust the door down.

Whichever it was, a moment of guarded measure passed between them before Victor stepped back to allow Xavier's team to enter.

Beast, Rogue, and Cyclops filed in, followed by an Asian girl dressed head to toe in bright yellow, while Victor held the door open like a bell hop.

Once they were out of his way, he walked out without ceremony, not deigning to further acknowledge anyone.

Just out the door, Victor stopped short.

The hallway was wrong. The place was completely spotless, as if the encounter had never occurred - at least that's how it appeared to the eye. His nose could still detect the faint traces of blood from both the teleporter and James.

Whoever had been chasing the girl had cleaned up after themselves before the police could get involved. And come to think of it, no one had even come knocking about a disturbance. So their guy had to have been waiting in the wings.

It irked him that anyone could get the drop on him, but it wasn't like this was his problem to begin with, and the immediate threat had passed.

Regardless, Victor slouched against the wall next to the door, waiting. Better to get one last thing over with, now.

As if on cue, the kid ran out after him. She skidded to a halt once she realized he hadn't gone any further and turned to face him.

"I finished watching him. Let's go." She demanded.

"You're going with them."

The girl frowned, brows furrowed.

" _You_ aren't going with them," Laura pointed out.

"No, I'm not," Victor agreed. "I said I'd get you somewhere safe. " He nodded back toward the team. " _They're_ safe. Now, go back in there and make nice."

She grimaced.

"They're _loud_."

She wasn't wrong; he could hear both Big Blue and Summers scolding his brother for some offense from here.

"You'll get used to it."

"Don't know them." The girl grumbled.

"Three days ago, you didn't know me. And three days from now, you'll forget all about me and be damned happy you did."

Laura stamped her foot in a fit of pique.

"I want to go with _you_!"

"Why?" Victor asked, genuinely confused, but he didn't give the kid a chance to answer before continuing. "You'll be around other brats your age and figure out how to be a _kid_."

He felt a new presence in the doorway, but he didn't stop his remonstrance. "They'll feed you, and clothe you, and give you a damned education. They'll take _care_ of you. I can't do any of that shit."

The girl growled, the claws in her tiny hands slipping free.

Victor heard a small 'oh' from the doorway. Glancing up, he found the Rogue to be their eavesdropper, but she was just there to collect the girl.

"Put those the fuck up and behave yourself. The lady wants to talk to you."

The woman eyed him warily, but she must have found some steel in her spine because she dismissed him just as quickly, turning to address the kid.

"Hey there, sugar, I'm Rogue. What's your name?"

The brat glared at woman.

"It's Laura." Victor supplied.

The girl shot an appalled glare his way.

Victor stared back, unmoved.

"Laura, we're gonna take you back with us to the school, but Logan's in a bad way, and we're gonna have to leave in a hurry. You ever been in an airplane before?"

The girl shook her head in the negative.

"Well, this will be an adventure for all of us. My friend Ororo is waiting for us right out that window."

"The window doesn't open."

The woman winked.

"I got a trick for that. You wanna come with me, sugar?"

The girl glanced his way, and Victor nodded once.

"Claws up and go with her."

The tiny claws snickted away, and the kid offered him a parting snarl.

Laura took Rogue's offered hand and walked with her back to the others, glaring over her shoulder at him all the while.

It was for the best. He knew it.

That didn't mean he had to like it.

Regardless, he'd delivered the girl to the X-Men as promised, and it was definitely the last he'd see of the kid and Jimmy.

* * *

 **A/N:** This marks the end of the initial arc, but this isn't The End in capital letters. From here on, the chapters may become less linear (if so, I will likely organize them later), but I have several plot points I'd like to resolve, and a few slice-of-life shorts and mini arcs planned before this is finished.


	12. Chapter 12

**Twelve**

* * *

Victor's doorbell rang.

Miles from the town proper and not one for company, he moved to scare the shit out of whatever moron had thought it was a good idea to irritate him.

Instead of finding a punk hightailing it to the road as he expected, he found The Kid on his doorstep. Victor slammed the door shut before she could speak.

Victor let his head thunk forward onto the doorjamb and growled to himself. After brief consideration, he wrenched the door open again a moment later.

"Get the hell in here."

Laura trounced in without a word, taking in her surroundings.

It was a far cry from the one room cabin he'd grown up in. His current sanctuary was two storeys tall and had running water, which supported the biggest goddamned bathtub he could fit in the available space.

Space he had in abundance, but none of it was suited to a half-pint runaway.

"How in the _hell-_ Why in the _fuck_?"

Victor rubbed his temples and opted for the first question.

"How in the hell did you get here?"

"I am good at hiding and finding," the girl replied, simply, too engrossed in peering down the hall. Victor stepped in front of her, blocking her view.

Had the brat just said she was playing a game of cross-continental hide and seek? He needed to step up his game if his most private abode had been unearthed by a precocious second grader.

Victor moved on to his next line of inquiry.

"Why in the everloving fuck did you come _here?_ "

The girl shrugged and pushed past him, following her nose to the kitchen where he'd been preparing dinner.

Victor growled.

"Get your ass back here! I'm not done talking to you!"

"Food!" Laura shouted in response.

Victor followed.

She wasn't as scrawny as she had been three months prior, but she still looked like she could stand to eat more. And if the girl somehow trekked over two thousand miles...

Victor shoved a plate in front of her.

He could always yell at her stupid little ass after dinner.


	13. Chapter 13

**Thirteen**

* * *

"You morons can't keep up with one goddamned kid?"

"We have been tracking her; however, Laura is surprisingly adept at evasion for a child her-"

Victor cut Xavier off.

"Save it, cue ball. Why the fuck is she even here? The damned kid won't say what drove her 2000 miles away from your school. She's too busy stuffing her face."

"There was a minor incident."

Of course there was. He'd figured that much.

"Logan was the only one injured, and there was no real harm done. However, she took it to heart and ran away before we could right the situation."

"When was this?" Victor demanded.

"Two weeks ago."

"And I suppose I have you to thank for leading the brat here?"

"If it gives you any solace, you were not the easiest mutant to find, Victor. It was in Laura's best interest, I assure you."

Victor snorted.

"Despite your short acquaintance, you left quite an impression on her. You saved Laura from that lab and likely saved her life. She trusts you."

Victor grimaced and glanced back toward the house.

"I will send-"

"No. Not here."

Like hell Victor was going to have any X-Men tromping through his territory. It was bad enough that the old man and the kid could find him. The thought of Jimmy and the rest of those goody-two-shoes invading his space raised his hackles.

"Calgary." Victor racked his brain for a precise location. Anywhere he frequented in that city was neither kid friendly, nor open yet, and definitely not an easily find-able public landmark.

The zoo, which fit all those criteria, was a terrible idea for more reasons than one, which left-

"Calgary Tower."

It wasn't the tallest building around, but the thought of his acrophobic little brother up there surrounded by windows and tourists amused him. At a hundred ninety something Victor had to get his kicks where he could.

* * *

The kid was passed out on the sofa, and Victor idly wondered how tired the little nitwit would have to be to think sleeping on his couch was a good idea.

Victor nudged her. The girl growled lazily and turned into the cushions.

"Wake up."

"Uh-uh."

"That ain't a place to sleep."

She grumbled again, and ignored him.

"Your pa is fine. That the reason you run off?"

The girl stiffened. Her "no" was muffled by the leather, but Victor heard it well enough.

"Then, why?"

Laura unhappily rolled over and sat up.

"I don't like it there. They're scared of me. _And_ it's _loud_." The "I told you so" was left unsaid.

Victor nodded but said nothing. If she wanted validation or comfort, she'd come to the wrong place. He didn't know how to do that shit even if he wanted to, and he _definitely_ didn't, so...

"I want to stay here."

 _What?_ He'd seen the request coming from a mile away, but it still confounded him.

Victor settled for, "You can't."

"But why not?," Laura countered, "I'm little. I don't take up much room."

That was a line if he'd ever heard one. He didn't know how to argue with that logic, though. So, he didn't even try.

"The X-Men will be in Calgary for you day after tomorrow."

The kid glared up at him.

"'Til then, you're gonna be my assistant."

Laura perked up.

Victor could guarantee she wouldn't want to stay after she figured out what, exactly, that entailed.


	14. Chapter 14

**Fourteen**

* * *

 _"The damned kid won't say what drove her 2000 miles away from your school."_

 _Previously,_ Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters

* * *

"Well, you found the third claw." Scott observed, helpfully.

Hardy har har. When Logan had made the observation about Laura only having two claws per hand in their first training session yesterday, he'd not expected to catch a foot-claw in the groin today. A fucking adamantium-coated claw! In her _foot_!

When he didn't give Cyke the expected scathing reply, the other man appeared visibly concerned.

"Logan?"

"Mmm fine," Logan squeaked.

He'd just honest to god squeaked. This day was getting better and better.

"You don't look fine. You're awfully... pale."

"Shut it, Scooter... Just need a... minute," Logan said, his voice approaching its natural tenor, "Go after her. She likes you better, anyway."

Scott was already halfway to the door of the Danger Room to do just that.

* * *

"It's the same as last time," Hank confirmed. "You're healing in hours rather than moments- still remarkably faster and more completely than a typical human. However, I'm concerned about the toxic levels of adamantium in your soft-"

Logan barely heard McCoy. His kid had run off, and he was handicapped as far as tracking her until his gnards healed.

And that didn't even touch on how much he was _worried_ about her. The damned girl was tiny and any anything could happen to her just because she had the misfortune of being born with his hard head. From the records they had recovered from the lab, she was barely even seven. And that was a completely different headfuck- there'd been a kid walking around with a near carbon copy of his DNA for seven years, and he hadn't even had an _inkling_.

Regardless, now that he had her, Logan was determined to do right by her. Unfortunately, she didn't come with a manual.

He knew Laura had been having trouble being around the other kids, and she found the rules of the mansion incomprehensible. Hell, _he_ still found at least half the rules incomprehensible.

The girl had been high strung from the moment she'd walked through the double doors over two months prior. He could tell she'd been on the verge of running for weeks, but Logan wasn't sure how to help her. He'd toyed with the idea of taking her somewhere to chill the fuck out and reset, but he hadn't figured out where quite yet. If she was anything like him, and in some ways she was eerily, _exactly_ like him, the girl needed her quiet time away from the mansion. He'd hoped that training would be an outlet, and it probably would be once they worked out the kinks.

 _If_ they could get her back, that is.

The team was already out following her, and according to Chuck, Laura was headed north.

For some reason, _that_ in particular, filled Logan with a strange mixture of longing and dread.

* * *

 **A/N:** I just remembered that this... is the second time I've done something like this to poor Logan and his bits in a fic. Whoops.


	15. Chapter 15

**Fifteen**

* * *

"It stinks," Laura complained.

"Get used to it," Victor said, "You're lucky it's just the two stalls."

The girl made a face and clumsily, begrudgingly handled the rake. It was a foot taller than she was, which added to the absurdity.

After several failed attempts, she managed to hoist the rake without losing any of the soiled bedding and making the mess worse. Halfway to the wheelbarrow, Laura looked out the door and froze.

"What are _those_?"

"They're the damned things that made all this shit. Ain't you ever seen cows, before?"

The kid considered and finally nodded. "What are their names?"

His brow furrowed. Wasn't this the same damned kid that killed a deer and rolled in its guts when he first found her? She'd been completely feral and acting on instinct at that point, though, and Jimmy _had_ always been fond of the livestock when they were young. It stood to reason the kid would be much the same.

"That one's T-Bone," Victor pointed to the big brown one before moving on to indicate the smaller black and white one, "and that one's Ribeye. Bacon's the smaller pink thing out yonder in the pig pen. Sausage is next to her."

Laura took all of this in with wide-eyed wonder.

"I'm going to pet them," she announced, pointing to the two cows.

"Yeah, whatever." Victor shrugged. "If they gore ya, don't come cryin' to me."

The girl abandoned the task at hand, running out into the field.

"And don't stab'em back, neither!" Victor shouted, for good measure.

In the end, his morning routine took over five times longer than it should have, but Laura was appropriately exhausted when he finally allowed her back in the house for lunch.

"Can we do that again tomorrow?" she asked, tentatively.

It was in that moment Victor realized his method of discouraging the kid with unpleasant hard labor had gone _horribly_ awry.

* * *

 **A/N:** Yes, Victor names all of his livestock after their associated foods. He thinks it's funny.


	16. Chapter 16

Sorry, for the delay. I've been obsessing over GoT and half-heartedly poking at the long unfinished 3rd chapter of my Rogan fic, "The Death of Duty".

* * *

 **Sixteen**

* * *

"We're really high up," Laura observed, nose pressed to the glass.

Victor grunted in affirmation.

"The people look like _ants_!"

 _She_ didn't seem to have a problem with high places.

The elevator doors finally creaked open to the cacophony of the restaurant at the top of the tower.

His brother and the Rogue were already there waiting on them. He'd scented the pair down at the entrance, and Victor had been half tempted to send the girl up on her own. With his luck, she'd just end up right back at his house, though, so Victor accompanied her.

James- _no, Logan_ \- was standing in the center of the room, arms crossed, legs apart.

Stepping out of the elevator, Laura mimicked his brother either consciously or unconsciously. Both of them stood there scowling at each other, and they would have kept it up all day, stubborn as they both were.

Victor nudged the kid forward.

"There. Go."

Laura glared at him.

"Remember what we talked about, earlier?" Victor murmured, below the din.

She nodded.

" _Well?_ "

"Fine," The child huffed, and stomped over to her father.

His erstwhile brother nodded once in his direction, and Victor responded in kind. He jabbed the down button until the doors slid closed on the scene before him.

As far as Victor was concerned, _that_ was _that_.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N:** I haven't quite decided on where this one fits in the continuity (the options being before or after Laura runs away from the school for the first time.) But it's ready, so it gets posted. For now, it can be read either way.

* * *

 **Seventeen**

* * *

"What the fuck is that?"

"Laura!" Rogue shrieked.

"I'm not eating that shit! It's fucking _green_!" The girl continued, viciously stabbing the offending vegetable with a fork.

" _Logan_!"

That was Marie's ' _you're in trouble'_ tone, if he'd ever heard it. And he hadn't even done anything to merit it this time. It was better to get whatever she was sore about over with now than drag it out, though.

"What?" Logan asked.

Rogue gestured toward his daughter, as if that explained everything.

Logan squinted in the girl's direction.

"Eat the damned broccoli, Laura."

Marie pinched the bridge of her nose, and muttered, "idiot", under her breath.

That wasn't fair. What the hell did she want him to do? Shove the broccoli spears down the kid's throat?

"Language, Logan. _Language_."

 _Oh_.

"So what, if she says a few naughty words? She's not hurting anyone," he defended.

"Seven year-olds shouldn't _have_ that kind of vocabulary. And she can't start doing that around the other kids. Charles will have a _fit_."

"Fine," Logan conceded, "Laura, don't fucking curse."

He continued speaking after a moment's reflection, "And eat the damned broccoli."


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N:** Hey everyone! I'm trying to wrap this story up so that it doesn't keep dragging on forever with short, intermittent updates. There are a couple of things I still want to touch on (if not fully explore), and I'm going to try to finish this little universe within the next 6 (or less) chapters.

* * *

 **Eighteen**

* * *

"This is becoming a habit," Victor growled blearily.

The child shrugged and swiped her hair back out of her eyes.

It was two a.m., it was snowing, and there was a soaked-through brat shivering on his doorstep.

This was the fifth time in the past six months, and Victor didn't know what the hell to do to put the girl off these little excursions. She saw through his posturing for what it was, and Victor didn't want to actually hurt the kid. He wouldn't go so far as to admit he liked the company, but Laura was family. And he looked out for family.

Didn't mean he had to be happy about it.

Victor was about to let the brat in and deal with the fallout in the morning, when he scented _It_ and noted the form tucked behind her.

"What the hell is _that_?"

The beast moved, wedging itself in front of the girl. Apparently, the little bastard didn't like his tone.

Once in the clear view, he could better make out the stocky form and truncated snout.

A bulldog.

"He's Constable Waddlesworth. He's s'posed to stay with me."

Victor growled at the dog.

The dog took one step forward and growled back.

The older feral nodded.

"He'll do."


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N:** I know... I promised to start posting more regularly to finish this, and then *poof* I disappeared. At the beginning of October, I had to make the personally devastating decision to euthanize my 15 year old dog who had cancer, and I just haven't felt like writing or working on anything creative until recently.

* * *

 **Nineteen**

* * *

The Kid routinely running off had him, and probably everyone damned else involved, at the end of his rope. She'd do good for a month or so and then take off at the drop of a hat.

Victor left Laura and her mutt curled up on the couch under a throw blanket that had recently been appropriated for her, specifically.

 _That_ was the thing the old feral found the most off-putting; he had started taking Laura's trips into consideration. Just yesterday he'd declined a job because he knew that the kid would be showing up soon, if she kept to her developing pattern.

The onset of winter was another problem. The season had started to seriously set in, and sooner rather than later, the roads would become impassable.

Even with tonight's small storm, it'd take a good bit of determination to dig out come morning, and it was only October. Victor was sure the little idiot would continue with her visits, no matter the conditions.

He'd call the cue-ball and figure out the logistics of her return in the morning. The _real_ morning. He was determined to finish his night's sleep if it killed him.

It seemed like he'd only been asleep for moments when Victor awoke to a new banging on his front door.

"For fuck's sake, knock it off!" He shouted.

Naturally, the racket increased in volume and frequency. The feral lumbered out of bed with a plethora of muttered expletives.

Laura remained passed out on the couch, somehow sleeping through the racket. The dog eyed him warily as he passed.

Knowing who he'd find outside, Victor took his time plodding down the hall. Finally, he reached his destination and jerked the door open.

"Took you long enough," Logan took one more drag of his cheap cigar before extinguishing it against his hand. "It's damned cold out here, asshole."


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

* * *

"Damn, runt, only four hours behind her. That's gotta be a record."

If Logan was looking for hospitality, he wasn't going to get it. Especially not at six in the goddamn morning before Victor even drank his token coffee.

With that thought, he led the younger feral to the kitchen, bypassing the living room where Laura still slept. Torturing the runt was one thing, but there wasn't any point in torturing _himself_.

"Heh. Thought I'd be having to shovel up guts once Con got ahold of ya. He hates cats, and I can't stand your stink on a good day. I hurried," Logan said.

"I'm touched," Victor sneered, "Lucky for you, the mutt and I came to an understanding."

Victor made a show of starting the single cup coffee maker before rounding on the other man.

"Now, what in the actual fuck are you doing here?"

 _Logan_ always let the brat stew for several days before fetching her, and he never trekked all the way _here_. Laura hadn't even slept off her adrenaline crash yet. Something was up, and invading Victor's house was a power play, not a social call.

The younger feral wasn't weather worn and bedraggled as Laura had been, but even Victor could see the weariness in his posture. The scent of underlying illness was also more prominent than it had been a month ago. That just served to piss Victor off, and he nearly missed what the runt said.

"Chuck and I have a plan, but you have to agree to it."

Neither of them were the type to beat around the bush. At least _that_ hadn't changed.

Victor snorted. "I ain't helping you or your merry band of idiots."

"Not me," Logan clarified, "Laura."

 _Well, damn._

 _Logan_ had learned a new way to get under his skin. Victor _would_ help if affected the kid, and the X-Men bastards _knew_ it. _This_ was why he'd avoided the whole family thing after Jimmy left; it was nothing but trouble. Instinctively, Victor, wanted to tell him to fuck off. He held his tongue long enough to at least learn what Logan was getting at.

"She's not going to stop running off up here. For some unfathomable reason, she likes your sorry ass," Logan continued.

Victor didn't get it either but had decide to stop questioning it. Kids were weird.

"She's probably just tired of yours."

The other feral ignored the return jab.

"Whoever was running that lab wants her back. Apparently, the one you busted wasn't the primary operation. It's not damned safe for her to be running around alone for weeks on end, in the first place. And now, she's back on their radar."

Here it was. The big picture came into focus. The runt had intel and was going to ask him to help take out the whole operation. And he'd do it in a heart beat, for _free_ no less, damn him.

"So, Chuck set up a schedule."

Victor blinked.

 _Well, that was fucking presumptuous_. He hadn't answered to anyone setting a timetable in decades, and he wasn't about to start now.

The younger feral pulled a battered piece of paper from his coat pocket and handed it over.

Victor's brow furrowed the dates scribbled down. The highlighting mostly corresponded with major holidays. _What the hell?_

"It's her school schedule with the holidays marked in. You pick her up on the dates in yellow. Bring her back in the dates in blue. We made up a few when there was a gap big enough for her to get restless."

The runt was asking him to... _babysit_? _What the ever-loving fuck?_

"What about those lab fuckers?" Victor asked, glancing up from the makeshift calendar.

"We're on it. You're not invited." Logan smiled, nastily.

Victor glared back at the crumpled paper.

"You've heard of computers, right? Cell phones? You could have fucking wrote. Called. Instead you show up here."

Had he just practically suggested they sync their Google calendars? What the hell was his life coming to?

He latched on to something else the other man had said, wanting to regain control of the situation, " _Pick up?_ "

"Or I bring her. We alternate." Logan shrugged. "We'll figure it out."

Victor growled, lowly.

"Laura! Quit faking being asleep and get the hell in here!"

The girl complied, bright-eyed and mutt in tow.

"You want this?" Victor asked, thrusting the crumpled paper out to her.

Laura took it, concentrating to decipher his brother's scribble. After a moment, she nodded, handing the paper back to him.

It was a terrible idea that went against everything Victor had been working toward for decades.

"Looks like I got her for the next two weeks. Get the hell out of my house."

This wasn't what he'd signed up for when he found the girl, but this... this could work.


End file.
